


Cold

by GingerEnvy



Series: WinterHawk Week 2015 [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Winterhawk Week, witnerhawk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 04:41:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4863551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerEnvy/pseuds/GingerEnvy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cold is sleep. Cold is blue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold

## Day 4: Cold

Cold was sleep.

_Bucky was stuck in the cold, he couldn’t move, strapped down, locked away in a chamber made of metal and ice all he could do was count the crystals his breath formed and try to fight off the panic._

_No please no. Not here again._

_He banged on the door watching it crack and he’s tumbling free, but he’s falling, falling and it’s cold the air is rushing past him and it’s cold._

_No, please, stop. No._

_“Bucky…”  
_

_Warmth blooms in the cold and dark, spreading from his cheek and onward, but ti’s still too cold he’s back in that space, he’s stuck, it’s all a dream it’s a dream._

_“It’s a dream, come on Bucky.”  
_

Bucky’s eyes snapped open.

“It’s a dream Bucky, you’re not there, you’re safe,” Clint was saying above him looking worried, like he always did when Bucky had a nightmare, his hand was resting gently on his cheek, the warm point of contact.

“Hey,” he breathed, and Clint looked relieved, because he wasn’t that good with dealing with the Winter Soldier persona yet when it emerged, he usually had to get Steve. But he could handle Bucky.

“Hey,” Clint returned, caressing his cheek gently, “You okay?”

“Yeah…just…you know…cold,” he muttered and Clint nodded then moved so he was right next to Bucky, covering as much of him as he physically is able to, sharing warmth, Bucky can take a deep breath and relax again now that he isn’t lost in a dream or flashbacks. He’s okay. He’s not with them anymore, he has other things to worry about, but he’s no longer on a bed of ice, at the whim of Hydra.

He had other things like PTSD and occasional panic attacks, relapses and intense flashbacks that made things a little less than easy, but he was better, he knew he was finally becoming himself again with every step he took on his own. With Steve and Clint there supporting him and smiling the whole way. He knew he’d be okay.

Clint listened as Bucky’s breathing evened out and his heartbeat calmed against his ear from where he rested on his chest, keeping him warm. He was glad it hadn’t been a bad one, he knew Bucky always felt guilty on the bad nights, and Clint never wanted him to feel guilty for something out of his control.

Clint just wanted him to be able to rest peacefully. Maybe someday he could.

* * *

Cold was blue. 

_It started out with a hit, nothing new, someone he had to take out, but then the face morphed into someone he knew, Tony, Steve, Natasha, Bucky, the edged tinted blue and he couldn't stop the arrow from flying. Couldn’t shout out a warning. And the blood was tainted blue it was all blue. He couldn’t say no, he would do anything he would say anything._

_The voice would whisper in his ear telling him exactly what he knew would hurt. It was his fault, it always was, they always left because of him, he drove them away, he wasn’t worth it. He was useless unless he followed orders._

_Follow orders. Bucky was on the ground. He had a gun in his hand, pointed straight at his head. Bucky was begging, but the blue was pulsing, the voice was demanding._

_Shoot. Shoot._

_BANG._

Clint woke with a barely noticeable jerk. He let out a breath and waited, listening to the breaths from Bucky next to him Still even. Still asleep. Clint rolled out of bed gently and silently padded to the bathroom.

He closed the door and then flicked on the light so he could see his eyes. They were their normal grayishblue, nothing eerie or unnatural about them. He let out a huff of air and placed his hands on the sink counter, taking deep breaths to calm his rapidly beating heart.

He was okay, Loki was gone, Thor had told him, Loki was  _dead_. Clint didn’t need to worry about it anymore, but of course that didn’t stop it from being a deep seated fear inside him.

He heard the door open and then a pair of arms wrapped around him, one arm metal one arm flesh. They held on tight and Clint let out a breath of air and his shoulders slumped.

“’M okay,” he mumbled, Bucky set his chin on Clint’s shoulder and Clint could see his reflection in the mirror he was sleep rumpled and perfect, but he looked worried.

“Wish you wouldn’t do that, walk out on me,” Bucky mumbled into his neck and Clint snorted.

“You know I’d never walk out on you, you need me for when you get cold,” he said and turned around in the arms so he could return the embrace, “I’m your living sweater.

“Dumbass,” Bucky snorted, “Can’t leave you alone, ‘cause I know how cold  _you_ get.”

Clint let out another huff of air and had to stop himself from maybe breaking down, because Bucky was so much more than he could ask for. His arms tightened around Bucky and he pressed his face to his shoulder.

“Let’s go back to bed,” Bucky murmured into his hair and Clint nodded and followed Bucky back to bed curling up with him and feeling warmer and not seeing a bit of blue when he closed his eyes. Yeah, things would be okay.

Bucky ran his fingers through Clint’s hair until he was sure he was sleeping, but even then he didn’t stop, it was all Clint would really let him do for nightmares. Bucky hated Clint’s nightmares because it always made him leave, like he thought it would bother Bucky. He hated that, Clint always stuck around for his nightmares, he supposed he would just have to give him a reason not to leave, he’d just have to keep him warm all night, like Clint did for him.


End file.
